Of White Horses and Reality
by bubblyangel101
Summary: And so she struggles to let go of that image, because no matter how hard he tries, he'll never match her illusions...and she's not sure she really wants him to. AokoXKaito oneshot...not angst, surprisingly.


When she was a little girl, Aoko always imagined her future husband as a perfect gentleman: kind, polite, and with this aura of overall cleanliness surrounding him…She doesn't know why, but she knows for a fact that she must've been influenced by those fairytales her mother used to read to Aoko at night—before she passed away, that is.

Aoko is no longer a little girl now, but the image of her ideal soul mate still lingers in the depths of her heart. Sometimes she closes her eyes and conjures up the picture from her mind: the picture of her dashing knight seated on the back of a shining white horse. There are rose petals scattered around the border; the horse tosses its head back triumphantly and puffs out its chest, proud to be ridden by such a worthy rider. Birds chirp, music plays, the nostalgic smell of lilacs fills the air as the sweet sound of laughter echoes through the trees…the image is so real, so close (but yet so far away), that sometimes she swears she belongs in the dream herself and that her life up to now has been a mere apparition.

Always, through her teen years and even now, when she is in her mid-twenties, she still cherishes this idea—this stunning mirage of completeness, of perfectness, of wonder. She sits around and occasionally daydreams about having her prince appear out of nowhere and sweep her off her feet, ready to take her with him to an unknown yet beautiful new world, to give her a new life with him and him alone…

She remembers the day she was first introduced to Hakuba-kun. Instantly, his amber eyes bored into her cerulean blue ones, his face a flawless portrayal of the exact emotions that she expected to see in the face of her beloved. She now knows that the polite gentleman she met that day is really who Hakuba is (_It wasn't an act; that's his personality, _she thinks), and she supposes that she should be glad.

(But something deep inside whispers, _There is no attraction._)

Kaito, on the other hand, is the exact opposite. He is about as close as you can get to rude, as noisy as Hakuba is silent and brooding, as energetic as Hakuba is composed. She can never get more than a few moments of quiet with him—she is always interrupted, always distracted, always pulled outside to see some strange thing or another.

(But there is no denying the way her face glows from the inside out whenever he gives her a rose.)

Aoko is suddenly jolted back to reality when Kaito's eyes meet hers, pleading and almost begging. (_No Poker Face today? _she wonders drily.) She is reminded about how uncomfortable it must be for him, getting down on one knee and staying there for so long.

_Will you marry me, Aoko? _His words, said only a few minutes ago, echo over and over in her mind like a broken cassette.

Aoko struggles to let go of her childhood dream, to permanently erase the kind, polite prince from her memory. _Because Kaito will never be that person._

Part of her is screaming, "Yes! Say yes! Open your mouth, you dummy! You know you love him more than anything in the world!" But the other part is stuck in the trap that is indecision, telling her that she'll never get the illusion she has waited for so long to get.

She is assaulted by images from her childhood with Kaito: Kaito flipping her skirt, Kaito dashing ahead of her with that all-too-familiar "You can't catch me" grin pulling the left corner of his mouth into a lopsided grin, Kaito remarking upon her true gender, Kaito lying to her and deceiving her father under the disguise known as Kaitou Kid. (_How many times have I cried for him? _she wonders.)

But then she sees Kaito giving her a rose, Kaito staying up all night to comfort her as she struggles to cope with the loss of her mother, Kaito making her chicken noodle soup and reading her favorite stories to her when she was sick in bed with the worst cold ever, Kaito coming over to eat the dinner she cooked when her father was out chasing Kaitou Kid, Kaito who held that mixture of unspeakable sorrow in his eyes when she says that of course he isn't Kaitou Kid, Kaito holding her in his arms and repeating the words, "It's going to be alright."

She wills her lips to move, the word "Yes" escaping as barely a whisper. His eyes light up and Aoko feels this unbelievably happy feeling filling her up inside, exploding from every inch of her skin as Kaito picks her up, twirls her around, and plants a kiss directly on her lips.

And all of a sudden, Aoko realizes that her prince was never Hakuba…because it was really Kaito all along.

oOo

AN: Written on a whim a LONG time ago. I didn't want to put it online because it's pretty bad, in my opinion, but…eh, whatever. Please review!


End file.
